A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,25

loves having Marge sit with her. They’ll play games until her eyelids droop.”

A sigh escaped him before he could stop it. He felt her eyes on him.

“Peyton wasn’t too happy?”

He wished it had been that easy. “Not happy at all.” He told her the story, wishing he hadn’t introduced the topic. They’d left her house with plans for a fun evening and he’d put a damper on it with his dilemma.

“Don’t feel guilty, Ross. You need time for yourself, too.”

“I tried to explain that to her, but—”

“What’s sad is Peyton hasn’t connected with her school friends.” Kelsey’s tone had darkened. “I understand why. Lucy missed school, too, and that made it difficult. I still remember those horrible days—panic, doctor visits, hospitals, bandages, and so much fear. It seemed eternal.”

His own panic rose. “Listen Kelsey, I’m sorry I—”

She erased his words. “Kids can be alone part of the time. I think it’s good for them, but they need stimulation, too. They need to socialize with their peers, not their parents.”

“I know, but you’ve seen her. It’s hard for Peyton.”

“I know it is.”

Dismay rang in her voice, and Ross wished he’d stayed away from the subject. He’d already taken the evening into a direction he hadn’t wanted to go.

Kelsey had leaned back, and he remained silent, probing his mind for things to talk about. Many of their conversations revolved around the kids and their problems. He hoped they had more in common than that, but their silence gave him concern.

When the restaurant came into view, Kelsey straightened her back while Ross’s shoulders sank in defeat. He’d gone blank, and he had so much he wanted to know about her. He’d realized a few days earlier that he had no idea if she worked and if so, what she did for a living. What were her interests other than Lucy? What had happened to her husband? A multitude of questions now whirled through his mind, and he thanked the Lord for filling his empty head.

Ross swung into the parking lot, glad he’d requested a table far from the band. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the music, but he wanted to spend time with Kelsey. Time without interruption.

The hostess led them to their table and handed them menus, and the next minutes were spent selecting their dinners. When he finished, he set his menu on the table and sipped water a waitress had poured while they were perusing the fare.

Kelsey lifted her eyes from the menu. “Everything looks good. I can’t decide between the veal in lemon sauce with artichokes or the shrimp scampi.”

“I’ve had the veal. It’s great.”

“That solves my problem. I love artichokes.”

Her voice had lightened, and he hoped it stayed that way. It would if he monitored his depressing comments. He had so few people to talk with about Peyton’s issues, and he looked forward to airing those feelings at the MOSK meetings…that is, if he passed their test. Bitterness charged through him, and he didn’t like the feeling. He’d monitored those emotions, trying to look at their decision in a positive light and to understand why they wanted to test it. Still…

“You’re quiet.”

Kelsey came into focus. He’d been lost in thought. “I haven’t decided between a steak or the steak and shrimp diablo, but I’m leaning toward the filet mignon.” That was true, but not what he’d been thinking.

“Are you ready to order?”

The waitress’s appearance saved him from further discussion on his silence. He gave the woman their choices, ordered coffee and then leaned back. “I realized the other day I have no idea what you do for a living.”

Kelsey’s shoulders relaxed. “I manage real-estate rentals. It’s a great job for me because I can handle so much of it from home. I have office space at South Oakland Realty, but I’m only there occasionally.”

He’d never have suspected. “You mean you take care of the properties.”

“Right. If they need a plumber or a repairman, they contact me, and I handle it for the owners.”

He slipped his hand over hers. “Our jobs have a few things in common.”

“I thought about that. You build residences. I just manage them once people move in.”

Ross hoped they had more in common than that. But his mood had lightened, and that was what he’d hoped. “What do you like to do for fun?”

She blinked. “Fun?”

He watched her think and winced inside. Asked the same question, he’d offer the same response. Fun had escaped him for so long between Ruthie’s illness and now Peyton’s. The word

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